


You Have to Mean It

by WitikoWolf



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-13 20:57:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2164923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitikoWolf/pseuds/WitikoWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry dose not believe that Voldemort is truly dead. After seeing all the death at the battle of Hogwarts he decides to go it alone this time. But will that really help to keep his friends alive? [A very dark fic]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alone

**Author's Note:**

> _**Hello and thank you for taking the time to read what took me so long to write. I started working on this fic over 5 years ago and was not able to finish it. Now with the help of claraowl I plan to publish the whole story here. I currently have 9 chapters done and expect 6-11 more before the story is done. I hope you enjoy it.** _
> 
> __  
> _**Authors Note: This story will or at least should fit into JK Rowling's cannon including the epilogue. Knowing this should not hurt that story but it will raise questions and hopefully make you think.** _ __  
>   
>   
> 

**Chapter One - Alone**

Beep beep beep…

Harry's hand hit the button of Dudley's old repaired alarm clock. The annoying noise stopped, but Harry did not get up. He was trying to get back to the dream he had been having. It had been such a good dream, especially after weeks of only bad dreams; however, it was already fading from his mind. Finally, he gave up the attempt and sat up in bed.

"Married to Ginny with two, or was it three kids?" Harry gave a small laugh. "Could only be a dream. I will never have a normal life like that. Maybe Ron and Hermione will now be able to have that life."

Harry had set the alarm because he needed to get up early today. He had planned to sneak back into Diagon Alley again this morning – he had been doing this regularly the last few weeks. It was the only place he could find what he was looking for and pick up information at the same time.

It has been nearly three months since his duel with Voldemort. For three months now, he has lived in this house alone. He had stopped wondering a long time ago why the Dursleys were still not back and decided to be happy for at least one good thing in his life. The stillness of the room gave him a lot of time to think about what he needed to do next… not that he really had any clue yet.

It has also been three months since he had any contact with his friends. He wondered how they were doing these days. Harry smiled as he thought of Ron and Hermione, and how happy they must be now that they are finally able to be together.

He silently hoped that Mrs. Weasley's clock had stopped pointing to mortal peril. She didn't need to be worried about the people she still had when she was already dealing with the recent losses of so many of her friends and family. Harry was desperately trying to push all thoughts of Ginny out of his mind. He hoped she could move on with her life. Nevertheless, it still hurt him to imagine Ginny living a life in which he had no part.

Harry pushed all thoughts of friends from his mind as he pulled his cloak over his head and stepped outside. Around the house, he had put up most of the charms that Hermione had taught him last year. The house was still visible to Muggles, however; he thought that the house disappearing overnight might draw unwanted attention to his situation. Harry still didn't want anybody to know he was living there again, though.

With a pop he was gone from Number four Privet Drive, and was now standing outside the Leaky Cauldron. He had risked Apparating without a license only a few weeks after he had arrived at the Dursley's. Not a single soul had even come to arrest him. Therefore, he felt that Apparating to the Leaky Cauldron would be pretty safe. Now all he had to do was wait for the first witch or wizard to enter.

Harry could not believe his bad luck – the first person to approach the Leaky Cauldron was none other than Hagrid! Harry noticed that Hagrid was crying as he swung the door open, and followed before the door closed again.

Hagrid slowly made his way up to the front of the bar. "Tom," he said, as he tried to hold back his tears, "I need a drink."

"Hagrid, what's wrong, son?" replied Tom, staring at Hagrid's swollen face.

"Have you not read today's Prophet?" asked Hagrid as he pulled out a copy of the Daily Prophet from his many pockets.

Harry moved in closer and read the headlines over Hagrid's shoulder. There was no need to worry about being heard over Hagrid's heavy breathing and sobs. Harry silently hoped this might be what he had been waiting for.

**Search Called off: Harry Potter Declared Dead.**

Harry had not expected this. He had a feeling they would come looking for him; that is why he'd returned to the Dursley's, of course. No one would expect him to go back there, not to the place he had always hated. To be declared dead certainly wasn't what he had expected.

Harry looked back over Hagrid's shoulder and continued to read the article.

**Since Harry Potter's disappearance only hours after his heroic defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the Ministry has attempted everything in their power to find the boy. "It is as if he just walked off the grounds," said Kingsley Shacklebolt, in a recent interview. "We cannot find any reason for him to have left, and he has not been in contact with anyone for the last three months. We are forced to conclude that we may never know what happened to Harry Potter."**

**Many people believe that the search is being called off to soon. "No evidence has been found suggesting that anything has happened to Harry. So we, his friends, have no plans to stop looking for him," said longtime friend Hermione Granger.**

**In reply to this, Shacklebolt added, "We have no plans to ever stop looking for some sign of Harry Potter, but we can no longer afford to keep putting so much of our resources into the search."**

**If you are not planning giving up on the search then why are you holding a Funeral him?**

**"People need closure; they need to start getting on with their lives now. We feel this will help them to do this," was Shacklebolt's response.**

**The funeral will be held on the Hogwarts grounds this coming Sunday. "It is being held at Hogwarts so that anyone who wishes to pay their last respects to Harry in person will be able to do so," said Temporary Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall.**  
  
My own funeral, thought Harry. He had not expected this, for some reason – not that he had ever given enough thought to what he was doing. He only knew it was the right thing to do.

Harry could not take any more of Hagrid's crying, so he continued with what he was here for. At the entrance to Diagon Alley, Harry tapped the correct brick from under his cloak. He had found out earlier that nobody seemed to notice the wall opening of its own accord. He quickly walked over to Flourish and Blotts to wait for a chance to enter the shop unseen.  
  
It was nearly an hour before the first person entered the store and Harry was able to follow him in. He had been coming here so often that he now knew exactly where he was going and the book he wanted. It was a thick brown leather book about Historic Duels. It had caught his eye the last time he had come here for a book on advanced transfiguration. He then walked over to another book that he had been thinking about getting, and now he had a reason to purchase it. This one was a black leather bound book called Funeral Rites and Spells.  
  
Harry left more than enough Galleons on the register. Lucky for him, nobody ever bothered checking who left the store, only who came in.  
  
Harry stopped in his tracks on the other side of the door. Mrs. Weasley was coming down the road, Ron and Hermione following behind her; the latter two seemed to be holding hands. All three looked about as happy as he was. He knew this was his fault. Surely they would have to get over his death sooner or later though, right?  
  
"It really is better this way," Harry told himself.  
  
Mrs. Weasley called back to Ron and Hermione. "Come on, come on we have a lot to do these next few days. No time to dawdle. We still need to get Ron and Ginny new Dress robes for the funeral. They have both grown so much lately."  
  
"But Ron's old dress robes will give everyone a much needed laugh," Hermione said with a small laugh herself. Although she was the only one to suppress a smile. Everyone looked ever so depressed.  
  
"Now where has Ginny run off to?" asked Mrs. Weasley, looking around.  
  
Harry too looked up and down the street, hoping to see her.  
  
"She already ran ahead to Madam Malkin's," answered Ron. Harry supposed that was a good thing; if he had seen Ginny, it would have been extremely hard for him to stay hidden under the cloak.  
  
Harry made his way down the street, going the opposite direction. They'll be fine, he thought to himself. I just need to figure this all out and then I can go back to them. Just how long that could take, he still had no idea.

  
Harry was soon back at Number Four, Privet Drive. He spent the rest of the day reading his books and thinking about what had happened earlier in the day – that's how he spends most of his days now. It was very late at night when Harry finally put down Funeral Rites and Spells and drifted off to sleep, hoping for a repeat of last night's dream.

  


_Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked out of the castle's huge entrance doors and were heading to the large white building that lay next to the Black lake._

_"I need to do this alone, I think," Harry said to Ron and Hermione as they walked._

_"But we don't know how safe the grounds are yet, Harry. You can't go out there alone; it's just not safe," argued Hermione._

_"He just defeated the most powerful dark wizard that has ever lived, Hermione. I think he can handle a few death eaters or anything else that may be still around," said Ron. "Anyway, he still has the elder wand," Ron quickly added, after catching the look Hermione shot him from Harry's other side._

_"Fine!" Hermione gave in. "But we are going to walk part of the way with you, so we'll close in case you need help."_

_Harry quickly agreed to this; he knew it was not worth arguing and he felt better with his friends close, anyway._

_As Harry approached the tomb, he noticed that is had not been repaired since Voldemort broke in to steal the elder wand. There was a dark crack splitting the large white building in two; it had weakened the rest of the build and had started to crumble around itself._

_Well, that answers that, thought Harry. He had been wondering how he was going to enter the tomb ever since he had left the headmaster's office. Now he would be able enter the tomb and put the wand back. It would stay there until the tomb was repaired – and hopefully until long after his death. This would break the chain and make it less likely that anyone would ever use the elder wand again._

_"Okay, wait here. I will be back in a few minutes," said Harry._

_He quickly walked the rest of the way to the tomb, only slowing down to work his way over the fallen rocks and debris and trying not to upset anything and cause the rest of the building to fall in on itself. The few minuets he had told Ron and Hermione that it would take had already passed by the time he was standing in the center of the tomb._

_Dumbledore's body lay on the stone table just like it had at the funeral, before it was hidden behind a wall of flames. Harry had been bracing himself for the sight of Dumbledore's body, now dead for almost two years, but what he saw amazed him. Dumbledore looked unchanged by his years of death. He lay there as if asleep and able, at any moment, to wake up and start talking to Harry._

_But Harry knew better than to think of such things. Dumbledore was dead, and although magic could keep him looking unchanged after death, it could never truly bring anyone back from the dead. Harry quickly placed the wand back in Dumbledore's hand and turned to leave._

_"AAAAA!" Harry screamed. Pain shot through his head like it had never done before. He fell to his knees both hands pressed hard to his forehead. It felt like someone had stabbed his scar with the red-hot blade of a very dull knife. He was about to black out when the pain stopped, just as quickly as it had come._

_It took Harry a minute to get back to his feet, his sight more blurred than if he had lost his glasses._

_But how? Why? Lord Voldemort is dead. Had he not just killed him? thought Harry._

_"But Voldemort is the only one that has ever affected my scar before. He must be still alive," said Harry aloud. Although there was no one to hear him, it hurt too much to simply think right now._

_But how? What did he miss? Is there another horcrux? Could he still be one? Harry's mind was filled with questions, but no answers._

_One thought pushed its way to the front of his mind, and out of his mouth. "If Voldemort is still alive, then everyone around me is at risk again. If I had not been here, would so many have come here? Would so many people have needed to die? No!_

_"I will not let this happen again. Next time, it will be just me and Voldemort, like it always should have been," said Harry._

_He turned back to Dumbledore's body and took the elder wand out of his hands._

_"I am sorry but until the battle is truly over, this is not safe here," said Harry to Dumbledore's body._

_He then turned around, pulling on his cloak as he walked away from Hogwarts and everyone he loved._


	2. Unwanted Guest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's mind went quiet as he listened for any noise coming from down the stairs, but he could not hear anything at all. Crickets, his breath, and even his own heart that was beating rather fast now had stopped making noise

_ **Chapter Two - Unwanted Guest** _

POP!

Harry's hand froze just inches from the button on the old alarm clock as the realization that he had not set an alarm that night came to him through the fog of yet another nightmare. Without moving, he cracked his eyes open to find that the room was still dark. He saw no movement in the room, but the red glow from the alarm clock was the only light he had to see by, and it did not reach the farthest corners.

In a single fluid movement, his hand shifted from the alarm to his glasses as the other hand grabbed the wand from under his pillow. Harry sat up, putting his glasses on, and pointed his wand at the far corner of the room, expecting an attack at any moment; but none came. After a moment, his eyes adjusted to the light and he could see that he was alone in the room. That meant that he had a moment to think, which he needed. None of this made any sense to him.

Glancing at the clock, he now saw that it was only 6:02 A.M. He knew the sound; someone had just Apparated into the house. It had to be an intruder – a visitor would have appeared outside the house and given him the chance to turn them away, as Professor Dumbledore had taught him was customary. Even when the ministry had come looking for him, they'd knocked on the door before letting themselves in to search the house. That, of course, had given him more than enough time to hide himself and any evidence that he was staying there – an idea he had gotten from his last potions teacher, Professor Slughorn. But whoever this was had just Apparated right into the house somewhere.

Harry slowly got out of bed and moved across the room to the bedroom door, all the while still wondering who the visitor could be. No one could seriously have thought that he would not have heard them enter his house in such a way; maybe they were hoping he would sleep through it. Well, whoever it was, they were in for a big surprise when he found them.

Slowly, so as to not make a noise, Harry opened the door a crack to look out into the dark hall. The only light in the hall was coming from a small glow at the top of the staircase, and it did a better job of making the hallway look sinister then it did at giving Harry any real light with which to see… but has far as he could tell, the hall was empty. Creeping slowly out of the room, he made his way to the steps and peered over the edge of the top step.

Again, he was expecting an attack the moment he showed himself, but again, none came. There was no one waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs as he was expecting; instead, he found a bright glow coming from the living room, illuminating the landing below. As Harry watched, a long shadow of a man moved across the doorway and disappeared again as it reached the other side. Seeing this only added to the long list of questions already running through Harry's mind.

If they had come for him, why would they be looking around the living room?

If they had not come for him, then why else would a wizard be in this house?

Why is it that the only sounds I'm hearing are my own thoughts?

Harry's mind went quiet as he listened for any noise coming from down the stairs, but he could not hear anything at all. Crickets, his breath, and even his own heart that was beating rather fast now had stopped making noise. Silencio? thought Harry. No, this was something a little different. Silencio only affects one person or object. But why try to be quiet now after such a loud entrance?

Harry's curiosity quickly got the better of him, and he started down the steps. He had had to quietly sneak down the stairs so many times in his youth just to eat that he knew even without being able to hear that he was not making a sound. Chances were that the intruder's spell had made it so that the intruder also could not hear… but if he had learned anything from all the books he had been reading, it was to never assume anything about your opponent.

Then, just as he reached the bottom step, the shadow reappeared on the floor, stretching out from the living room entrance. Harry froze with one foot still hovering over the floor, afraid any movement would draw the intruders' attention, but after a few moments the shadow shrank back into the living room. Harry let out the breath he had been holding and stepped down off the last step. Moving to the edge of the doorway, Harry slowly peered around the corner and into the living room.

The light was coming in from the street lamp outside the window. He always made sure the curtains were closed that so no one could see him moving about the house… so the intruder must have opened them, but why?

It took the few seconds for his eye to adjust to the light before he saw the intruder sitting in one of Aunt Petunia's old arm chairs. It looked as though the man had moved one of the chairs closer to the window, and was using the light from the street lamp to look at a book, but still hid himself in shadows.

Harry could now see a pile of books around the chair. They had to be Aunt Petunia's old photo albums, Harry thought to himself. But why would anyone, let alone a wizard, be interested in pictures of muggles?

Well, whatever the reason, Harry had to find out who this was and why they were here. He had been looking almost daily for some sign of why his scar hurt that day at Dumbledore's tomb. This may be the only lead he was going to get to find some answers. Slowly stepping into the room, his wand held high above his head, Harry closed his eyes.

"Lumos!" Harry shouted.

The room was instantly aglow from a bright light coming from the tip of his wand. He had felt the words come out of his mouth but he heard nothing.

"Nox!" Harry again tried to shout.

Again he could not hear even his own voice, but his plan had worked. Harry opened his eyes to see the outline of the stranger now standing and rubbing his eyes. He was not going to miss this opening.

"Stupefy!" Harry shouted.

A red light shot from the tip of his wand just as the stranger managed to summon a shield to protect himself from the spell. The stranger aimed his wand at Harry, and before he could react, a powerful gust of wind lifted him off his feet, carrying him out of the living room slamming his back into the wall at the base of the stairs. He hit the wall with such force that he thought he might black out, but the stranger was not done with him yet. Another blast of wind carried him up the stairs bouncing off everything on the way up before pinning him to the ceiling, then letting him fall face first to the floor.

It took Harry a full minute to regain his feet and stumble to the edge of the stairs. His vision slightly blurry, Harry looked over the edge, expecting the stranger to attack the moment he showed himself, but no attack came. The landing was empty and still eerily quiet.

Slowly, a shadow formed in the doorway and started to move out of the living room. Harry had to rub his eyes to make sure he was seeing what he saw. Most unusually, the coffee table had come walking out of the doorway.

Well, that was certainly something you did not see every day. Why would he animate an object? was that all Harry had time to think before the table started running up the stairs like a large dog. With little time to react, Harry used the first spell that came to his mind. "Ffero vita," he yelled, leveling his wand at the table.

It lifted into the air, struggling against the invisible bonds that held it. Slowly, it began to twist and rotate, picking up speed till it was almost a blur. The table top melted into itself until it was just a brown blob. The legs began to bent and split into eerie looking arms and legs. Part of the blob separated to form a head with large eyes and pointed ears. Then quite suddenly it stopped spinning and fell to the floor. Standing before Harry was a now-furious looking wooden house elf. Harry looked into the elf's large almost happy-looking eyes and the elf stared back into his.

"Get him," whispered Harry. Even though no words escaped his mouth the elf seemed to understand and took off down the stairs to fulfill his master's wish. As soon as elf disappeared into the living room, flashes of red, yellow, and blue lit the hall - and then nothing. For a moment, Harry saw no signs of life from the room. Then a shadow once again broke the dim light of the street lamp. It seemed to be move erratically back and forth across the light, almost stumbling.

Not wanting to miss his chance, Harry rushed down the stairs and stopped in the doorway. He could just make out the shadow of the person in the light of the street lamp again. Harry let out a small laugh. The elf had clung to the intruder's head, refusing to let go.

"STUPEFY!"

The moment he had uttered the spell, a feeling of pure horror struck him. The intruder had stepped into the light. The shadow turned out not to be a man after all. Harry stared in shock, his eyes locked with her brown eyes. The look of surprise on her face as she flew backwards, smashing into the cabinet behind her. She hit it with such force you could hear the wood crack, and she seemed to glide down it, her body hunched. Harry ran across the room to her side. Hermione lay on the ground unconscious in front of him.

\---------

Hermione opened her eyes to find herself lying on a bed in a small room that she had never seen before. From the little she could see of the room while still laying down, she could tell it was a mess. Stacks of books were piled on everything that could hold them. Piles of clothing and other things were lying on top of the stacks of books.

She tried to sit up, winced in pain, and laid back down again. It felt like her entire back was sore and bruised. So she laid there for a few minutes, trying to work out what had happened last night. The last thing she remembered was Kinsley asking her to go to the Dursleys'. He had wanted her to see if she could find a muggle photo of Harry from before he started at Hogwarts. He felt that her being muggle born and Harry's friend made her the best person to do this. She remembered arguing that is was a waste of her time; the Dursleys would not have taken any photos of Harry. But he had insisted that it must be done and if she would not do it he would have to send someone else, and he didn't feel right about sending someone that Harry did not know. So she reluctantly agreed and left first thing in the morning.

Not wanting to be seen by any Muggles, she Apparated directly into the Dursleys living room. She didn't think of the popping noise until it was too late, and stood frozen in the middle of the room for a few seconds. Were the Dursleys even home? She had not thought to ask if they had been allowed to come home yet… but no one had come rushing down the steps. Well, better safe than sorry, she thought.

"Silentium finis," Hermione said, as quietly as she could.

"Well, the sooner I get started, the sooner I can leave," she said aloud – partly to test her spell and partly for the fun of not hearing anything she said.

She remembered looking around for a bit before she had finally found some photos albums in cabinet and began looking through them. Then the room lit up with a bright white flash and blinded her. Barely able to see anything in the room, she cast a shield to buy a second or two. A red light hit the shield immediately and bounced off. She needed more time to think, but she could still not see who was attacking her, so she used a spell that would hit anything in the direction that the spell had come from.

"Flatus Spiritus!" yelled Hermione

That had given her more time to think and plan. She knew that she could not leave without finding out what this strange wizard was doing here. Was he waiting for Harry, or did he know where Harry was...?

Hermione stopped mid thought. It all came rushing back to her now. She could clearly see his face has the spell had hit her. Harry was standing in the hall with his wand pointing at her and a look of horror on his face.

Her heart was beating much faster now. Pain rippled through her back has she again sat up in the bed. She was far to exited to let it stop her from getting up now. This must be his room, she thought as she took a better look around. But where is he now? Pulling off the covers and flipping her legs of the bed she started to get up when she saw him laying against a wall near the bed.

She couldn't stop herself from falling into his lap and waking him with a hug.

"Harry, you're alive," said Hermione as she started to cry on his shoulder.

I thought you told the paper you did not believe I was dead was the first thought that came to Harry's mind. He immediately felt terribly guilty for it, and blamed it on his lack of sleep. He had been standing over her the rest of that night and most of the next day after he had carried her to his bed and healed what he could. He could not have been sleeping for more than an hour when she woke him.

"I... Sorry," he said instead, wanting to return her hug but too worried that he would hurt her again.

Hermione released her grip and leaned back so she could look him in the eye. "Harry, where have you been? Do you know that everyone has been looking for you?" she asked with tears still rolling down her cheeks.

"I have been right here," Harry replied, now looking away from her stare. His stomach was twisting in knots and getting worse every second.

Hermione got up walked over to the bed and sat down. "You've been living here alone for the past three month and didn't think to send any of your friends a letter to let us know you were okay?" she asked as she tried to stop her tears.

"Ah... sorry Hermione but it is kind of hard to send a letter when Hedwig is dead! Or did you forget about that?" Harry replied in a rather nasty tone. He knew that covering his guilt with anger would not help, but he could not take the question anymore.

Hermione just sat on the bed with a shocked look on her face. Her expression slowly softened to one of understanding. "Harry, what happened at Dumbledore's tomb? Why did you leave us?" she asked in a very soft voice.

He had been waiting for that question, but he was not prepared for how she asked it. He had left her – left them all – wondering if he was alive for months now. When she finds him, he nearly kills her. Then he gets angry with her for asking a simple question that anyone would have asked...but she still talked to him with care and understanding.

"It's none of your business, Hermione." And yet he could still not tell her. The sooner she leaves, the safer she will be. Whether she hates me or not it does not matter. She will be better off without me in her life. He got up and walked out of the room. He could not look at her after that.

He had been sitting in the living room for nearly an hour watching the golem looking at itself in a mirror before he heard her coming down the steps.

"You think he is still alive, don't you, Harry?"

Harry was frozen in his seat. He could not even turn to look at her. How had she come up with that so fast? he thought.

Hermione gave a little laugh at what she knew he was thinking. "It was not that hard, really, Harry. I just had to look around your room," Hermione said, still talking in a soft tone.

She stopped for a minute to allow Harry to say something; when he did not, she continued. "At first I thought you were just trying to drive everyone away. Close yourself off from the world. Maybe the battle was too much for you. But that is not really like you, Harry. You've already lived too much of your life alone," continued Hermione as she walked over to the seat across from Harry and sat down.

"Then I took a better looked around your room. Advanced Dueling Techniques, 101 Offensive Spells, and The Ultimate Dueling Defenses – Harry, you're trying to improve your dueling skills. I can only think of one reason why you would think you need to do that," she explained.

It took everything he had to look her in the eye. He was surprised to see that same understanding expression on her face. "Now that I know your secret, Harry, can you please talk to me?" she asked in that same soft voice.

Harry was beginning to hate that voice. Scream and yell at me; that I can handle. But that voice is killing me, he thought.

"I cannot tell you what happened at the tomb or why I have closed myself off from everyone. I am sorry, but they are my issues, Hermione. But I would like nothing better than to spend the day talking with you – all of you," said Harry as he looked at her properly for the first time since she had entered the room. It looked like she had been crying the entire time she was alone up stairs. He knew how much he was hurting his friends this whole time, but to see it up close was a very different thing. Hermione looked away from Harry not wanting him to see that she had been crying.   
  
"Then what are you going to name him?" Hermione asked, pointing to the wooden golem that was now making faces in the mirror.

"You can't just turn him back?" Harry asked inquisitively, instantly realizing he had said the wrong thing.

"Harry! That would be just like killing him!"

"But isn't it just an animated table, really. It's not really alive; it just changed."

"No, it is not the same at all, Harry!" Hermione's voice was getting louder now.   
  
"You need to read a little more then what a spell does and how to cast it, Harry. Once you make a golem, it is alive. If it was still just a table, it would have no mind of its own. But look at him," Hermione pointed over at the golem who was now admiring itself in a hat and scarf in front of the mirror. Anger gone, Hermione broke out in a laugh that was echoed by Harry.

"Well what am I going to do with him? He can't stay here," said Harry now smiling for the first time since he arrived at the Dursleys'.  
  
"You could give him his freedom. He is obviously bound to you in some way. Maybe you should try giving him some clothes and see—" Hermione was cut short when the golem turned to scowl at her.  
  
"I don't think he likes that idea, Hermione," Harry had a hard time keeping a worried tone from his voice. He could almost feel how angry the golem was, and it scared him a little.   
  
"Well, would you like to come home with me, then?" Hermione asking the golem directly this time. The angry feeling passed as the golem now looked to Harry questioningly as if asking him for permission.

"I think that would be best for you," was the only reply Harry could think of that would not upset Hermione. Harry's approval was all the golem seemed to need, as he turned back to Hermione with a big grin and then went back to trying on shoes. Both Harry and Hermione took this as his agreement to go with her.

"Can I talk you into coming back with me as well?" Hermione asked, her voice was now low and sad. "You don't have to deal with whatever you are going through alone. Let us help you, Harry."

After three months of living alone with nothing to show for it, Harry was starting to question why he didn't just go back with her. After all working with his friends, the Order, and maybe even the new ministry he would have a much better chance at finding Voldemort.

"I can't, at least not right now, Hermione." It had been the images from his nightmares that had convinced Harry to stay. Putting his friends in danger again was just something he could not do.

The next few minutes passed in an uncomfortable silence as they both watched the golem, still playing in the mirror.

"What are you doing here anyway, Hermione? What were you looking for?" Harry asked, breaking the silence first.

"I was looking for some picture of you to display at the funeral," Hermione said sternly, pausing a moment before she continued speaking. "They can't find any pictures of you other than what was taken for the Daily Prophet, so Kingsley asked me if I would come here and see if I could find any. I told him it was pointless, but he insisted."

Harry got up and walked over to the cabinet were Hermione had been looking last night. He pulled out what looked like all of the books and set them aside. He then pulled out one last small, black photo album.

"Here are all of the picture that I ruined by being in them. Aunt Petunia said that it was a waste of film to throw them out, so she just kept them hidden and away from the good photos," he said has he handed the book to Hermione. She immediately starting flipping pages looking for just the right photos.

"Why are they having a funeral for me? What I mean is, we were gone for months, and no one would believe we were dead. So why is it that I'm dead after only a few months?" Harry had been wondering about this since he read about his funeral in the Prophet yesterday.

Hermione stopped flipping pages and slowly looked up at Harry. "You were only the first of many people who were seen in the Great Hall after the battle who disappeared that day. Most of them have not been found, and the ones that have were found dead or worse." Hermione had to pause and take a few deep breaths before she could go on.

"Neville found Professor Sprout just last week. He was asked to take care of the school's green houses in her absence and he found her—" Hermione started crying again and could not go on. Harry quickly moved to where she was sitting and held her.

"She had been transfigured into a plant and left in her own green house. No one knows how to change her back. McGonagall says that changing her back could kill her," Hermione continued, still crying into Harry's shoulder. Harry didn't know what to say so he just held her and let her cry.

Hermione continued to cry for several minutes before she lifted her head and wiping her eyes dry with a sleeve. "I am sorry, Harry, it is just so sad. Can we talk about something else please?"

"Erm… how are Mr. and Mrs. Weasley?" Harry asked, hoping to change the subject to something that would not upset her.

"It was hard for them at first. Mr. Weasley went back to work at the ministry almost immediately. Kingsley promoted him to head of the Muggle Liaison Office and he seems to be enjoying that. Mrs. Weasley keeps herself busy around the house, mostly. But they are doing better now," answered Hermione. "George had the hardest time after the battle; since we lost Fred, he's not been the same. He moved back into his old room at the Borrow and has hardly left the house. The Joke shop is one of the last shops still not open in Diagon Alley. But even he is starting to get better." A little more hope crept into Hermione's voice as she continued to update Harry on all his friends. Bill, Fleur, Teddy, McGonagall, Luna, Neville, and everyone else he would have thought to ask about and a few he would not have. It was good to hear that other than worrying about Harry, all of them seemed to be doing well. Harry did notice that she was purposely avoiding talking about Ginny. Not really wanting to think about her, he kept Hermione talking.

"How are you and Ron doing?" Harry finally asked, hoping for some more good news.

Hermione looked down at her hands before speaking. "I don't know. We've hardly talked since you disappeared. He is obsessed with finding you, Harry. He has had no time for me or anyone else, really."

"I am so sorry Hermione. I didn't think—" was all Harry got out before Hermione cut him off.

"So you didn't think, Harry. You didn't think about how your leaving would affect everyone that cares about you, how it would affect the entire wizarding world. You know why they are really having your funeral, Harry? Because nothing can go back to normal until you are found," Hermione paused to get to her feet. He could see the anger in her eyes now and he knew he deserved it.   
  
"The Ministry is hoping that your funeral will give people some closure so they can go back to their normal lives." Hermione looked like she might start to cry again but then the anger returned.

"But you are hurting yourself the most, Harry. You have hidden yourself away in this place that you hate, cut yourself off from everyone you care about at a time when you need them most. Voldemort has been chasing you for so long that you can't let it go – you can't accept that he is dead, Harry, and that you are free to live your life." Hermione picked up the photo album, then walked across the room to where the golem was still playing with the mirror and picked him up.

"And while you are here your life is leaving you behind, Harry. Ginny has started seeing someone else recently. But don't worry, Harry – I will not tell her or anyone else that you are here." Hermione pulled her wand out, was gone with a loud pop before Harry could say a thing.

 

  
  



End file.
